Suffer the Children
by grimes xi
Summary: In which John Winchester takes in a little girl. Dean/OC


Chapter One

 _1985_

 _[reposted]_

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John Winchester ambled up the steps to the rundown and abandoned apartment complex, his long legs stretching over two steps at a time. Above him, a full moon burned brightly, its white rays reflecting off the pitch black harbor water behind him and glittering off the waves. The tide lapped gently against the loading docks, the noise accompanied by the sound of cars gliding against the pavement from further inside the city of Detroit.

The fog was cold and heavier than usual tonight, and it hung over the harbor in a thick blanket of mist. The frosty, winter night air pushed John's black windbreaker behind him as he finished his climb up the steps, fresh snow crunching beneath his boots. Small puffs of breath escaped from his mouth as he exhaled, the air around him cold and icy as he moved to wrap his hand around the cool knob of the door.

Giving one last glance behind him before stepping inside the building, he pushed the door open halfway and let his eyes sweep over the inside. The building was dark and definitely unoccupied, by the looks of it. He licked his chapped lips and stepped over the threshold, pushing the door open wider for further inspection, the hinges creaking with an eerie squeal in protest.

Pale moonlight instantly flooded the room, moonbeams falling over the broken furniture that was scattered across the floor. The place smelt of cigarette smoke, dust, and rotting wood—clearly not the most pleasant smell, but it didn't deter him.

It was still too dark to see clearly, so he moved farther into the living room, unmindful of the shards and bits of broken glass that littered the floor. He went over to the large bay window that overlooked the front of the house and into the harbor. Without further thought, he ripped down the heavy floral drapes, sending dust and snow particles scattering as more moonlight flooded into the room. The plastic pole that the curtains had been hanging on came crashing to the floor along with the curtains, falling to the carpet with a dull thud.

Turning away from the window, John could now better examine the apartment.

The couch to the right side of him was missing some of its cushions, and the brown and green argyle striped fabric was torn and shredded, as if someone had repeatedly taken a knife to it. Across from the couch was an old television set that was lying on its side on the floor, its screen partially smashed in the center and fanning out in spider-webbed cracks, giving it the appearance someone had hit it with a baseball bat. There were old papers and ripped covers from books strewn all across the poorly carpeted floor, accompanied by large shards of glass from broken lamps or vases. The red brick walls looked old and weathered, dust inhabiting every crack and groove in the plaster. To top everything off, a light dusting of snow covered the objects strewn across the room, the snow having been most likely blown in through some broken window.

Beyond the living room lay a small kitchen, its remains much the same as the room before it. The yellow-stained linoleum floor was cracked in places and missing tiles in others. Cabinet doors were wide open while some were hanging limply off their hinges. The refrigerator was missing its freezer door, and the oven stove top next to it was charred black, as if someone had burnt one too many a meal there.

A small, round table rested in the center of the kitchen and was surrounded by chairs that were missing two or more legs, leaving them to lie brokenly on the floor. Cracked china plates and cups had been dumped carelessly in the sink, gold rose petals adorning the rim of the plates and glaring harshly at him in the moonlight.

John sighed and he turned away from the room, only to pause at the sight of a leg poking out from behind the couch. He paused for a moment, staring at the paper white skin, before inching his way forward.

Slowly, the sight of a young woman in her late-teens reviled herself to him. Her caramel hair was in a disheveled mess and her skin was marred with long, jagged, and bloody lacerations. She was completely naked, bones twisted at angles they shouldn't be, and her glazed eyes were directed at the ceiling—dead.

John's eyes narrowed and his teeth grit. It looked as though the demon he was after was getting more and more creative with his kills, each one more gruesome then the next. He had to find it, now. Before it found another prey.

John ran a frustrated hand through his hair and began to trudge up the stairwell, the worn wood creaking beneath his steps. At the top of the stairs, the moonlight shone even more brightly through the broken windows that were in the various rooms. He glanced down the hallway and his furrowed when he found that it was extremely long. He slowly made his way down the green carpet, briefly glancing into each room as he passed, looking for anything of importance. He twirled his knife loosely in his right hand, always ready to use if needed. He doubted anybody was actually living here though, homeless or not. The foundation beneath the building was most definitely crumbling, and on the whole the place looked decrepit and worn. John figured that surely no one was crazy enough to stay in a place like this—which is why it was perfect for a demon to take shelter in.

As he was about to finally near the end of the long hallway, he happened to notice that one of the many bedroom doors was closed, which he thought was rather odd because the rest were left unhinged or wide open. He neared the door, and the sound of pattering feet from inside the room suddenly met his ears. His breathing immediately paused and he frowned, halting his movements and listening intently. He knew he had _not_ just imagined that sound.

Still frowning, he took a tentative step forward. Just as he was about to place his hand over the knob of the closed door, he heard a small and decidedly excited voice from inside.

" _Mommy?_ "

 _What the_ —?

The door swung wide open then, hitting the brick wall behind it and bouncing slightly from its momentum. Inside, a little girl stood with an expectant smile on her face, her eyes wide with what John assumed to be hopefulness.

Just as quickly as it had come, however, the little girl's smile vanished, noticing that the person who now stood before her was definitely _not_ who she had been expecting.

John stood tall and looming in the doorway, looking down at the small girl with surprise as his hand slowly relaxed its grip on his knife. She looked to be only three or four of age—her tiny, thin frame was clad in a short-sleeved, knee-length blue cotton dress with sneakers adorning her feet. She had a mass of long, tangled blonde hair that was falling from a poorly put up ponytail, and a backpack with dirty, mustard yellow straps weighed down heavily upon her shoulders.

The girl was visibly shaking, either from the cold or because she was frightened out of her mind, he couldn't decipher which. A cold breeze blew in through the open window across the room, and the snow had just begun to fall again as the two stared at each other. Small white flakes flittered in through the window and landed on the floor around them. The room was pale and silent.

The biggest and brightest gray eyes John had ever seen stared up at him in an expression that could only be read as confusion, and he gently smiled as he dared to step closer. The girl backed up awkwardly. Her eyes freely roamed up his tall frame and her brows furrowed together.

"Hey," He said, bending down in front of the girl and placing his hands on his thighs in front of him, leaning on his haunches. "What's your name?" he asked in a voice as pleasant as he could muster.

John searched the girl's face expectantly as her eyes glittered from under her dark lashes. She drank in his sunken-in eyes that were rimmed in dark circles from lack of sleep. Her eyes wandered over everything from his lips, all the way to his dark hair and black clothing.

"Hey," he prodded again, his eyes never leaving her face. "What's your name?"

The girl in question bit her lip. "Tess," she replied shyly, her voice small and _so_ incredibly sweet sounding to John's ears. He hadn't heard a voice like that spoken directly to him in so long.

Not since Mary.

His eyes darkened at the thought.

She was staring up at him warily now, her head cocked to the side as she watched him, her eyes locking onto his hazel orbs as if she were unsure of what to think of the man in front of her.

"Tess," John repeated, "That's pretty name," his lips quirking when the little girl ducked her head and blushed, the moonlight illuminating the pink that crept up her cheeks.

The girl's head rose and her eyes met his again. She stared at him with interest, as if he were a puzzle she couldn't quite piece together. They looked at each other evenly for several seconds—neither one blinking until suddenly the little girl spoke, leaning in close as if she were whispering to him a deep, dark secret.

"Why are you so big?" she whispered timidly, afraid that she might offend him with her question, but unable to contain her curiosity nonetheless.

John let a large smile spread over his features, his dark eyes dancing with laughter and genuine amusement of the likes he hadn't felt in quite a while. His eyes darted to the ceiling for a moment, before returning to meet hers.

"Why are _you_ so small?" he asked.

The girl seemed thoughtful as she pondered this. "I don't know," she replied quietly, the end of her sentence fading as she waited his reply.

But instead of replying, he simply stared at her carefully, his head cocked to the side and his brows furrowing. "Where's your momma?" he asked her, his voice low.

Tess shrugged, one of the straps from her backpack sliding off her shoulder. "I don't know," she replied sadly, her brows forming a crease between her eyes and her gaze falling to the carpet. "She told me to wait here until she got back." Her small voice was a mere whisper when she spoke, and she balled her tiny hand into a fist, moving to tiredly rub her eyes with it. She looked like she hadn't slept in days.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, watching her closely.

The girl lowered her gaze and counted on her fingers. "Two days," she replied after a moment of careful consideration.

John processed this information as he watched her with interest, his eyes narrowing into slits as he sized her up. The girl obviously hadn't realized it yet, but he was guessing that her mother was the woman downstairs. He wondered how they got here—because who brings their child to an abandoned apartment in the middle of winter?

John's eyes wandered briefly around the room, taking note of the twin bed pushed up against the wall, and the random cardboard boxes that had been dumped in the opposite corner of the room.

 _Were they living here?_

His eyes eventually wandered back to Tess. "Who's that?" He motioned with his hand towards the stuffed object that was clutched in her hand.

Instinctively, Tess's palm curled around the object's arm, tightening her grasp. "Oh . . . this is Teddy," she said, slowly finding her voice. "My . . . my daddy got him for me before he left." John watched as she turned her head downward to look at the bear with adoration, as if it were some sort of angel sent by God.

Watching the seriousness of the little girl's face as she looked at the bear, John had the urge to smile, but he managed to contain himself and instead pressed his lips together as he watched her pat the bear's head lovingly. Turning her own head to face John, she took notice of the peculiar look on his face and quickly spoke.

"Don't worry," she began, "Teddy likes meeting new friends," she offered reassuringly, but also carefully and slowly, as if she were picking out her words with the utmost caution so as not to offend him.

She bit her lip shyly as looked up at him and again they stared at each other for a few more seconds, silently contemplating each other and each other's possible motives. John could not help but take note that girl didn't seem afraid of him. Sure, she was apprehensive and maybe a little frightened, but that was natural for a child. In truth though, he was just _slightly_ intrigued by the way she looked at him. She held his gaze longer than most adults would, yet she still was shy enough to look away when she was embarrassed.

As John watched her, he noticed that her eyes had shifted downwards towards his right hand—the hand that was currently holding his knife. Tess stared sideways at it, watching it as if it were a deadly viper that could strike at any moment. She took a tentative step backwards.

He dropped his eyes down to his hand and stared at the knife, watching as the moonlight pouring in through the window ricocheted off the blade and made it gleam fiercely.

John shoved it in his jacket in one swift motion, making Tess jump. She swallowed thickly, her eyes still locked onto the spot where his knife had disappeared. "Do—do you know when my mommy is coming home?" Her small voice was barely audible and her large eyes were filled with hopefulness. "She promised me she'd come back soon," she added in quiet whisper, speaking half to him and half to herself.

He sighed and Tess's eyes shifted back up towards him at the sound. Shifting on his haunches, he moved closer to the girl, his hands on his thighs. "I don't think your momma's going to be here for a while."

Tess's hopeful expression vanished and her small shoulders sagged dejectedly, Teddy falling limply at her side. "Oh," Her brows scrunched together in confusion as if she didn't understand what had just been said. She lowered her head from his gaze then and stared at the carpet. John watched as her eyelashes fluttered wildly against her pale, dirt-stained cheeks. She looked like she was about to cry.

 _Goddammit,_ John thought exasperatedly _._ Fearing that she would burst into tears or screams or throwing some sort of temper tantrum, he quickly shifted again and leaned in closer, dipping his head low so he could look up at her face that she had bowed from his gaze.

"Hey," he whispered quickly, "you hungry?" he asked, searching her eyes closely.

Her head snapped up immediately and her eyes brightened in what he assumed was surprise.

He nodded once and rose to his feet, knees popping in the process. "Come on." He motioned for Tess to follow him as he turned away from her and opened the door.

When he didn't hear any movement behind him, he frowned, turning back to face Tess, only to see that she hadn't moved. He gave her a quizzical look and she bit her lip.

"Mommy said I ha—have to stay in here." She looked up at John and winced as if she were expecting him to berate her or start yelling.

Instead, he sighed. "You know," he began, opening the door wider and raising his brows as he glanced out into the empty hallway, "if you don't eat you'll starve." He turned back to look pointedly at her, working his mouth slightly. "And your mom wouldn't like that, would she?"

The girl frowned and look towards Teddy as if he'd have an answer for her. She then slowly turned her head to look up at John still standing in the doorway. "Teddy _is_ kind of hungry," she offered, pulling her bear to her chest and clutching it against her.

John acknowledged her silently and suddenly dipped down to scoop her up in his arms, causing her to give out a little squeak of surprise. He adjusted her so that her legs dangled over his abdomen and his arm was wrapped tightly under her knees, leaving her to sit on his forearm. She pressed her lips together and awkwardly held her bear in her lap as the man holding her strode out of the apartment and into the frigid air, snow shifting beneath his shoes.

Tess was immediately mesmerized by the dark winter wonderland around them, and despite her initial hesitation, started to clap her hands in delight, clutching her bear closer to her as she giggled excitedly. "Do you see all this snow, Mr?" she asked eagerly, staring at the shadowed white powder in amazement. "I really like it," she gushed.

John didn't respond, and instead, tightened his grasp around her as his shoes met the slick and icy pavement.

"Where are all the polar bears, Mr?" came Tess's sudden, inquiring voice. "I read a book that said polar bears live in the snow," she explained, brushing a piece of hair out of her eyes as she studied John carefully from up close. She let her eyes openly roam over his handsome features as she talked. "Are they all sleeping in their igloos?"

He didn't answer her once again, thinking that maybe if he didn't she would stop asking all these nonsensical questions. Instead, he continued walking, his eyes darting left and right, making sure that they weren't being watched. He had already decided that he would drop her off at the nearest police station. They'd figure out to do with her from there. At least then she'd be safe—and off his hands.

"You're so strong," Tess suddenly commented, breaking John out of his thoughts. Her small hand moved to encompass his upper arm, but she quickly discovered that she couldn't even wrap her fingers around it.

Showing no outwards signs of even acknowledging the fact that she had spoken, he set her on the ground once the two of them had reached the car and then proceeded to brush the snow off the windshield of the Impala. Tess's legs wobbled slightly and she shifted uncomfortably as water seeped through the rubber padding on the bottom of her shoes.

Once John had cleared all the windows of snow and ice, he bent down to remove her backpack, pushing the heavy object off her shoulders as Tess's teeth began to chatter. "It's cold," she whispered, studying John's eyes as he slid her backpack off her shoulders and set it on the floor of the car.

He placed his hands under her arms and then lifted her into the passenger seat, gently dropping her into it. Placing his hands on the seat, he leaned over her so he could press the button on the driver's side door to pop open the trunk. Once it opened, he went over to the back of the car and pushed aside random objects until he found what he was looking for. When he returned, he tossed the object into her lap.

It was a blanket.

He put his hand on the top of the car to support his weight, the door behind his back, and leaned down to look at her. "That okay?" he questioned, raising his brows. He didn't want her complaining the whole time about how cold the car was, so he figured he might as well solve the problem now, especially seeing as how the heater wasn't working at the moment.

Tess situated the oversized blanket so it was draped over her legs and then pulled it up to her chin. "Yes," she replied after a moment. "Thank you Mr," she said bashfully, snuggling farther into the blanket and turning a shade of pink under his gaze. He silently nodded and was about to shut the door when Tess stopped him. "Wait!" He raised his brows expectantly, his hand resting on the top of the door, ready to close it. "Aren't you gonna put me in my car seat?" she squeaked, sounding worried.

Sighing impatiently, he bent down into the car so he could lean over her to buckle her seatbelt. Once she was all strapped in, he placed both of his hands on either side of her seat and stared at her sternly, challenging her with his eyes and daring her to question him further.

"Oh—okay," she stuttered, obviously receiving the silent message he had sent through his eyes.

A few moments later, John had slid into the Impala's driver's seat and turned on the car. Shifting the gear out of park and into drive, he sped off down the street, the rubber tires sliding effortlessly across the icy asphalt as they sped away from the apartment building. Tess watched in silent interest as skyscrapers and buildings from the other side of the harbor all passed in a blur of tall, looming gray steel beneath the overcast sky.

She smiled to herself as she snuggled deeper into the passenger seat, pulling the heavy blanket up to her chin once more and folding her arms around her bear. She was so glad for a change in scenery. She hadn't been out of the house in a long time, and it felt good to ride in a car again. She hadn't done that in a while either. Since her mother was always working, Tess didn't get to go out much.

Pursing her lips together, she suddenly turned her head away from the window and looked at John. "Are we gonna cross that bridge over there?" She pointed out her window to a large suspension bridge a few miles away.

"Mhm," he replied distractedly, his dark eyes directed on the road in front of him, both hands resting on the bottom of the steering wheel.

"Why?"

John grunted, suddenly wishing that Tess would just be _silent_. His boys, Sam and Dean, rarely made a peep. Even Sam, who had just turned two years-old knew better then to make too much noise around John when he was on a case. "Because we're going into the city," he replied.

"Why?"

He was silent for a moment, contemplating the choices he could answer her with in his head. "We're going to see some friends." He narrowed his eyes at the road in front of him. The police weren't exactly friends, but Tess didn't need to know that small, skewered detail.

She cocked her head to the side curiously. "Do you have a lot of friends, Mr?"

John almost snorted, his eyes locked onto the road ahead. "No," he said unblinkingly, his voice as rough as sandpaper. How the hell do you tell a little girl that you kill monsters for a living?

"Oh," she replied, biting her bottom lip. "Well," she looked towards him with wide eyes, "Teddy wants to be your friend," she explained cordially.

John couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "He does, does he?"

"Yeah," she said, still gazing up at him.

It became silent as he drove down the ice-slicked street, making the ride silent save for the quiet hum of the car. As he drove, he became vaguely aware of the fact that Tess was staring fixatedly at him. He shot her a brief glance out of the corner of his eye and frowned. "'You feeling alright?" he asked, shifting in his seat and both of his hands still gripping the wheel.

Tess bowed her head to glance at her bear and then looked back up to look at John once more. "Teddy likes you," she said bashfully, a small, unsure smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "He—he wants to know if—if you like him . . . too . . ." she trailed off.

John's lips twitched with amusement and he had to pause for a moment to hold back a smile. "I do," he replied, because he knew that Tess wasn't _really_ talking about her bear—she wanted to know if he liked her.

He smirked to himself and drove in silence—the back streets of Detroit strangely empty despite the occasional homeless person trying to keep warm in a pile of snow. He found it odd that no one was out, especially considering the time of day. It was nearly rush hour, so where was everybody? As he thought it over in his head, the answer suddenly occurred to him when he passed by an old restaurant and saw a wreath hanging on the door.

Well, _that_ was why no one was out.

It was _Christmas_. How could he have forgotten?

For a moment, he thought about his young sons who were currently staying at a motel at the edge of the city, being babysat by the manager's wife—a large, old woman who had little else to do. Somewhere, at the back of his broken mind, he knew that he should be there with them, drinking hot-coco and reading them bedtime stories about Ole' Saint Nick. It would be what Mary wanted.

 _But she would've wanted me to find the demon too,_ he thought to himself, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. In the end it all came back to that, because there was nothing more important than finding the yellow-eyed demon. Nothing more important than taking revenge on the monster that ruined his life. Nothing more important than killing his wife's killer.

 _Nothing._

Tess sat perfectly still in her seat, cuddling her blanket and her bear as she stared out the window interestedly. They had long since passed over the bridge and left the slums, and were now right in the heart of Detroit. John glanced at the clock on the dashboard and saw that it read 4:01.

"Teddy wants to eat," Tess suddenly said. She looked bored and sleepy, and her hair was so tangled that large knots were spread out over the top and bottom of her head, sticking out every-which-way.

"Don't worry," John replied. "Our friends at the station will get you something to eat."

Tess looked slightly put-off, and she stared at her bear as if he would provide her with an answer. "Well . . . Teddy doesn't like to talk to strangers," she explained stoically, carefully thinking over her words.

"It's either eating there or not eating at all," he said, throwing her a sideways glance to see her reaction.

Tess huffed exasperatedly, having nothing to say back to him. After a moment, she finally replied. "Aren't you hungry too?" she whined.

Pause.

" . . . Oh." She licked her lips and sat back in her seat.

After several more moments of silence, Tess suddenly giggled unexpectedly.

John's brows furrowed and he looked over to her. Seeing his confused expression, she was quick to elucidate. "My tummy made a funny noise," she giggled again, her eyes shining brightly.

He simply nodded, glancing at the speedometer. By chance, his eyes happened to roam over to catch sight of a large, square police station sitting at the end of the street. Glancing around him first, he quickly pulled the car off into a short, narrow alleyway and turned it off.

"Are we at your friend's house?" she asked quietly, her eyes tiredly roaming over the dashboard, examining the surroundings outside the car.

"Mhm," John hummed, taking the keys out of the ignition and getting out of the car. He walked around the front of it and then opened Tess's door for her.

As she was met with a blast of cold air, she winced. "Where are we?" she asked tiredly and through half lidded eyes, slowly pushing the blanket off her legs and to the floor as she waited for the John's response.

He leaned down over her seat to undo her seatbelt. "A police station," was his only reply, and he hoisted Tess up out of her seat and grabbed her backpack all in one swoop. It had just begun to snow again and the white, icy flakes stung her skin as they were whipped wildly around in the air. She wrapped her arms around John's neck and rested her chin on his shoulder while the frigid wind sharply bit at her skin and stung her eyes, making them water. Frowning, she buried her face in the crook of his neck as a way to shield her eyes from the biting cold, finding solace in the warmth of his bare skin.

John slammed the car's door shut and began to trample through the snow and towards the entrance of the station.

Now standing next to the glow of the night-lamps by the front entrance, he opened the door and stepped inside. Warmth immediately encompassed the both of them and he felt Tess lift her head from his neck to gaze about the brightly lit room.

It was small and plainly decorated—a row of connected chairs against one wall and a picture of the force and the American flag station behind it on pale, off-white walls. A stack of magazines rested on the glass coffee table in front of the chairs and a small, glass bowl sat next to them full of stale candy. Behind them, there was the sound of droning voices, and John turned to see a small T.V. was mounted in the corner of the room close to the ceiling. 'It's a Wonderful Life' was playing on _TCM_.

John placed the yellow backpack in his hands onto one of the many lobby chairs and then bent down to place Tess on the floor. She slid easily out of his arms and looked around the room interestedly as she regained her balance on the floor, keeping close to John's side. She clutched his jean-clad leg tightly while her other hand held Teddy close to her side.

He made his way over to a clear window with the words, 'POLICE DEPARTMENT' plastered above it. He peered inside the window, spotting an older, African-American woman seated at a desk. She was staring fixatedly at the white, block computer in front of her, the bluish, green light emanating from the screen reflecting back onto her face. John cleared his throat before tapping on the window to get her attention.

The woman inside the room immediately looked up. "Hello, sir," she greeted, blinking her eyes several times and giving him the impression that she had been staring at her computer screen for a quite some time. "What can I do for you?"

He gestured down to Tess, "I found this girl wandering around Grand Circus Park by herself," he lied. "I couldn't find her parents."

The woman sat up and moved toward the window, glancing down at Tess and clicking her tongue. "Poor baby," she murmured, and in response, Tess blushed furiously and ducked her head back behind John's leg, bashfully hiding behind him. The woman's face softened further and she momentarily looked up to John to say, "I'll be right back."

Tess was still clutching onto his jeans and began to half lean on him for support, her face pressed up against his thigh and her eyes starting drooping. "Tired?" he asked.

She only nodded in reply and wound her arms more tightly around his leg, sighing heavily. He huffed a small laugh, only to have it catch in his throat when the light hit her tangled hair. His brows furrowed as he studied the blonde strands, his heart thudding painfully in his chest and his fingers clenching—it was the same color as Mary's.

It only took a few minutes before the woman was back with a small stack of papers, "Please fill out the paperwork here and when you're finished we'll run it through the system," she stated, giving Tess a brief smile before turning back to her desk.

John turned and plopped himself down onto a lobby's chair, leaving Tess standing alone. She looked small and vulnerable, standing there in the middle of the room in her sky-blue dress and tangled long hair and arms folded awkwardly across her stomach, hugging her sides. She sighed heavily. She felt there was nothing she could do to make the man happy. All she wanted to do was make him _like_ her. She thought of all the neat things she could do, like draw pretty flowers on the frosted glass with her fingertips and all the hilarious stories about the kitty-cat her mommy had bought her on her birthday named Fluffy. He would like those things, wouldn't he?

Her troubles were soon forgotten only a moment later when she suddenly spotted her backpack sitting a few seats away from Mr—and she scampered over to it, finally setting her Teddy down on the floor so she could dig through her bag. She pulled out her toothbrush, her coloring books, her box of Crayola crayons, a pair of sneakers, socks, and her dark green dress that was a size too big.

Glancing over all of her things that were sprawled across the floor, she decided that she would color while Mr. was drawing on his paper. After putting everything back, she grabbed her Care Bears activity book and flipped through the pages, wanting to find one of those blank ones where she could draw her own picture. When she found one, she grinned to herself and flopped herself down onto the floor, lying on her tummy.

She already knew what she wanted to draw.

Kicking her feet up into the air, she reached for a tan crayon and got straight to work, her tongue poking at the corner of her mouth as she busily scribbled away. Next came the black crayon, and then the brown one, and then the black one, and _then_ the pink one for his lips.

She finished the rest of her picture in no time at all. When she was done, she smiled knowingly to herself. _Boy_ was she good. She hoped Mr. would think so too. Just a few more finishing touches . . .

After a few moments, Tess stood up and made her way over to Mr's side, her picture in hand. "Do you want to see what I colored?" she asked quietly, standing in front of him. When he didn't answer or even look up at her she continued on. "I drawed it for you . . ." she trailed off, her eyes wandering over his long legs and large brown boots.

John finally lifted his head from the paperwork to look down at her and she eagerly met his eyes. She pulled the picture out from behind her back with a small, careful smile, and John took it in his hands. It was _him_ —well, a crude stick figure version of him, but still him nonetheless. He was toweringly tall, almost took up the whole paper, in fact, and he was wearing his black windbreaker. He had black, filled-in circles for eyes and a messy pink grin as a smile. Standing next to him, (he almost hadn't noticed her because she was so small,) was Tess, who was wearing a blue, triangle-shaped dress.

"Do . . . do you like it?" she asked, holding her breath as she looked up into his eyes, trying to gauge his reaction.

For some reason the back of his eyes itched and he quickly cleared his throat. In that moment, he was reminded of his own sons and he felt something in his gut ache, remembering what day it was and what they were missing out on. "Mhm," he mumbled after a moment, staring at the picture for just a second longer before handing it back to her.

She reluctantly took it from his hands. "You can keep it if you want," she offered dejectedly, her voice cracking at the end.

John stared at her for a moment and gently took the paper from her hands, folding it and setting it in his jacket pocket. He went back to the paperwork and shook his head in an attempt to put his head back into place, a sudden urgency filling him.

Tess frowned and eventually ambled away, feeling slightly disheartened. Next time, she promised to herself, she would try harder to color inside the lines, maybe then he'd like her picture better.

Sighing, she decided she would check out the rest of the lobby. She curiously inspected everything in sight, but was disappointed when nothing of interest caught her eye. After a while she found herself near the window. With a furtive glance over her shoulder, she gripped the edge of the windowsill and watched as little white flakes of snow drifted lazily to the ground. Everything was still and quiet outside, the trees hardly stirring even an inch. She looked upwards to find something hanging from the edge of the roof. Her eyes widened and she smiled.

"Look Mr!" Her head glanced back at him, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Bicycles!" she said in awe. "D'ya see 'em Mr? They're so pretty." She whispered the last part, staring at the frozen water dangling from the roof with mesmerized eyes.

John snorted in amusement and considered telling her that she was looking at _icicles_ , but he didn't have the energy. He turned halfway to glance behind him, but she had already crawled under some other lobby chairs and was out of sight. He resumed the paperwork.

"Mr, how do trees get so tall?"

He tried to concentrate on the form while Tess fired off a few more random questions as she crawled about the room. _How do you tell if a worm is a girl or a boy? How do the fishies breathe if they can't come up out of the water when it's frozen? Why couldn't the snow be a pretty color like . . . yellow?_

He ignored all her questions and let out a sigh of relief when he finally finished filling out the form.

Tess, however, was disappointed that he had not shown interest in any of her topics, eventually wandered back over to the other side of the room. She saw him walk back over to the woman at the desk and hand her the papers before sitting back down again, sighing tiredly as he let his head rest against the wall behind him.

It would take a few minutes before she finished running the papers through the system, so John figured he'd rest for a few moments until then.

He was vaguely aware that Tess was watching him as he stared at the back of his eyelids. She blinked and brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and then climbed onto the chair beside him so she was kneeling, resting her weight on the back of her calves. "Are you sleepy?" she asked curiously, her voice high.

For once, he decided to actually answer one of her questions. "Yeah, I am," he said with closed lids, one of his arms resting limply over his abdomen.

She took in this information wordlessly as silence ensued between the two of them. After a moment, she gradually began to inch closer to him, waving a hand over his face to see if he was a sleep. She had seen people do it on T.V., and although she wasn't really sure why they did it, she figured she'd try it anyway.

John was secretly aware of what she had just done, but he ignored her, feigning sleep instead. She seemed satisfied with his unresponsiveness however and slowly laid herself down next to him. She kept her eyes on him the whole time as she hesitantly laid her head on his thigh, lying on her side. When he didn't move, she sighed contentedly and let her eyes flutter close, attempting sleep.

It was a few minutes later when the woman appeared by the window. John lifted his head from the back of the couch as he watched her place a few papers on the desk. "The papers will finish processing in a few minutes," she said quietly.

John nodded and briefly looked around the room before dropping his eyes down into his lap where Tess was apparently snoozing quite comfortably. He smirked faintly, staring down at her little tangled, ringlet curls.

Without even giving it much thought, he suddenly found his hand moving gently through her hair, feeling the soft, textured locks beneath his fingertips. He idly twirled a lock of her hair around his finger as he looked down at her with a thoughtful expression, regarding her silently as she slept. She was a cute little thing, he mused. All big, gray eyes and porcelain skin—like Mary. His wife had been beautiful, all long, willowy limbs and thick golden hair. No one could compare.

Suddenly, John felt something drip onto his leg and he leaned forward to see that Tess had just drooled on his pants. He huffed a laugh and settled back into the couch. At least _she_ was finally getting some sleep. He didn't want her to be cranky. There was no way in hell he would put up with a toddler's attitude.

Now that he had thought about, though, he figured that he had actually been pretty lucky thus far. Even though the girl did ask a lot of questions, she so far hadn't proved to be too demanding or high maintenance. Which was good, for her part, he mused, because the second she started acting out, he wasn't sure if he would be able to handle it right now.

For the next half an hour, he aimlessly sifted through her curls as he stared out the window, hardly even aware of what he was doing anymore. Eventually he was running his hands up and down her back, rubbing circles into her cotton dress while she slept. The whole building was eerily quiet. A faint hum could be heard from the light bulbs, and occasionally a phone would ring, but otherwise it had been fairly silent.

The clock on the back wall read 5:02 AM when the woman at the desk finally called him over. He lifted himself from the couch and Tess awoke instantly, looking confused as her long lashes fluttered sleepily. He picked her up and she wrapped her arms and legs around him immediately, closing her eyes again.

"Here's the address for a nearby Social Service office," The woman began when he stopped in front of the window, handing him another small stack of paper. "Give these papers to the receptionist. Over there, they'll have you fill out some more forms and the superintendent—"

John cut her off immediately. "No, no. I've gotta get back home, my sons are—"

The woman held up her hand and gave him a hard look. "Sir, please, I'm sure they'll understand."

John shook his head, an anxiousness filling him. He didn't have time to go all the way to Social Services—there was a demon roaming around Michigan killing innocent women and his sons had no presents for Christmas. It would take the whole day to just get her set up there and there was _no time_. "Isn't there anything you guys can do?" he tried to ask. "Anyone you can call?"

The woman just shook her head, dismissing him. "Good luck, sir. If you have any problems, I'm sure you'll be able to figure everything out over at the Social offices."

She turned back to her computer and John gave her a harsh look, roughly grabbed the papers from the desk.

He whirled around, causing Tess's grip on his shoulders to tighten and stomped out of the police station, the frigid morning air immediately hitting their faces. Tess could sense John's darkening mood and tried to put as much distance between their bodies as physically possible, but it didn't quite work. The older man noticed this and shot her a confused look before opening the passenger door and depositing her in the front seat, buckling her in. He shut the door and moved to the driver's side, immediately fishing for the keys in his pockets.

Tess furrowed her brows and played with the bottom of her dress somewhat anxiously. She couldn't decide if it was okay to speak or not. She cleared her throat and brushed some hair from her face, watching him turn on the engine. "Mr?" she asked uncertainly. "Where are we going?"

John sighed and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes.

If he didn't start going now, the demon would be too far away to track. He had been on this case for over four weeks now, driving around Michigan and finding a new, freshly carved woman every other day. The body count was multiplying and lives were at stake—he couldn't spend the rest of the day filling out papers and driving around the city, the demon could after someone right now.

 _But the girl . . ._

Beside John, Tess stared up at him meekly, not quite sure what to make of his mood. He had stopped was strangely silent and looked distant, as if he were lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. Hoping to brighten the atmosphere, she leaned in close to him as if she were going to whisper a secret.

"You wanna hear me sing my ABC's?" She narrowed her eyes at him and raised her brows in a comical way. If she couldn't impress him with her picture, then maybe she could impress him with how _smart_ she was.

He only stared at her blankly before turning back to the window in front of him, silent.

A bit nervously, Tess clasped her hands on her lap. "Can you please just—just talk to me, Mr?" She furrowed her brows together anxiously. All she wanted was for him to take interest in her. She just wanted— _needed_ him to like her. She was getting tired of trying to impress him and wanted nothing more than for him to just speak with her. She wanted him to listen to her and understand her, to answer her questions. She hadn't talked to anyone in _so long_.

John turned to her then, staring unabashedly at her features, his eyes roaming over everything and taking note of every little detail. Her mouth was parted slightly and her large gray eyes were staring up at him eagerly, looking so, so _familiar_ —warm and kind and genuine _._ He sat there silently for a long moment—and just like that, something clicked in his mind and the solution to his problems came like a flash of lighting.

He hadn't always been there for his two sons these past two years, not with his busy hunting schedule. He couldn't give Sam and Dean the time or attention they needed, especially now while he was on this case. Maybe, just maybe, by providing them with a friend—with Tess—she could help fill that gap. It wouldn't be for very long, just until he finished the case, and when everything was wrapped up and he had some time on his hands, he'd take her down to Social Services.

"My name's John," he suddenly said and Tess looked up at him in surprise. He made sure his body was facing her before he spoke again, letting a gentle smile stretch over his handsome features. "I have two sons that are around your age, Tess. Would you like to meet them?"

Tess looked pensive for a moment, blinking her eyes thoughtfully. For a second, John thought she would actually agree to go, but suddenly, her countenance changed, her tiny brows furrowing together once more.

 _Mommy . . ._

Tess stared down at her hands, wondering why her mother hadn't come for her yet. She promised she would be gone just a couple of hours—but it had been nearly three days now. Her mother had never left her alone for that long.

 _"Soon, baby, we'll get out of this dump. I'll show my parents that I can take care of you."_

 _"One day, we're gonna live on a big ranch in Montana, with fat horses and cows and little piglets. And we can go swimming in lakes and canoeing and nobody will tell us what to do."_

" _You're my strong girl, aren't you Tessie? You wait here for mommy and be quiet and I'll be right back."_

 _"I love you so much . . ."_

All of her mother's phrases and random snippets of conversations came back to Tess in a sudden rush, and she found herself feeling homesick as she dwelled on her mother's words. Her mother had always talked about how she hated the city and always wanted to move to the country. Maybe that's where she went. If that was the case, then she'd be back really soon, Tess was sure of it and they would move to Montana just like she said.

She shook her head back and forth to John's question, clutching the material of her dress.

"No," she whispered, voice barely audible. She shook her head back and forth again. "No, I . . . I can't. I have to go back and wait for mommy."

"Tess, your mom—she's going to be gone for a little while."

Tess's brows furrowed together as she squinted her eyes up at him, "But I want to see her now," Tess frowned, not understanding.

"We'll be back before she gets home," John promised. It wasn't necessarily a lie—her mother was never coming back, so even if Tess didn't either it wouldn't really matter.

Tess processed this information carefully, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress as she stared at the car's floor, the wheels turning rapidly in her head. She shifted and her eyes rose to meet his, gray orbs darting back and forth between his own.

She nodded, slowly.

"Okay."

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 _So . . . this is the third time I've posted this story, but I feel like I've finally got it right this time._

 _Tess meets the boys next chapter! I'm going to be trying to fit over twenty-years into this story, so tell me if I'm moving too fast! As you can see, John's emotions are kinda all over the place_ — _being content one moment and irritated the next_ — _this is intentional. He's still a little out of it since Mary's death so he's not exactly thinking straight. Anyways, please review!_

 _ **Check out pictures of Tess on my profile!**_


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